Midnight Before Christmas
by BrynnH87
Summary: Sequel to "At a Loss" but it's not necessary to read that one first.  Reply to Mab Brown's 'cat' challenge.


Midnight Before Christmas

Blair was awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of a disgruntled Jim stomping toward Blair's small room. Stomping was a good trick for Jim these days, as he had fallen from a low roof three weeks ago, while pursuing a suspect. The building hadn't been tall enough for Jim to be in any real danger of killing himself from the fall, but he did manage to break his right ankle. He had been on crutches for a while and had just graduated to a walking cast.

Blair managed to sit up and pull the cover back just before Jim actually reached his bedside and plopped a squirming ball of fluff onto his lap.

"It was in the Christmas tree again, Sandburg!" Jim blared as the 'it' in question burrowed under the covers, seemingly frightened. It got over the fright though, as soon as it found Blair's toes.

"Ah," Blair shrieked when the fuzzball sank in its claws to keep its newfound toys (Blair's toes) in place. The owner of said toys promptly disengaged the animal and held it firmly in his arms, as he addressed Jim. "Not 'it', Jim. She. And she's a _cat_! She's supposed to climb."

"Not _my_ Christmas tree!"

"What's the problem man, you put all the breakable ornaments back in the closet, so it's not like she can actually destroy anything."

"Except my _tree_!"

"It's an artificial tree, Jim. I really doubt Midnight did it much harm."

"And that's another thing!" Jim tended to digress when he got upset, so he was doing that now. "Who in their right mind would name _that_ cat 'midnight'?"

"Midnight is a _perfectly _acceptable name for a cat. In fact, I would think it was quite common." Blair said smugly, while petting the cat, who had actually looked up when she heard her name.

"Midnight is a common name for a _black_ cat! _That_ cat is pure white!"

Blair just shrugged and gave his roommate a 'you know me' look. What could he say. The cat _was_ pure white – a long haired Persian mix with the silkiest hair Blair had ever felt. But the name 'Midnight' had popped into his head and he just couldn't get it out. So, he went with it.

"Just keep it in here, huh?" Jim started to exit the room.

"Jim, Midnight is _not a …"_

"_Her_, Sandburg! Keep _her_ in here and out of _my tree_!"

"Sure thing, Jim. Close the door on your way out, okay?" Blair hadn't thought about it before now, but with Jim sleeping on the couch, since he still wasn't quite up to hobbling up and down the stairs every night, it probably woke the sensitive man every time the cat started climbing. Keeping her in his bedroom wouldn't be a hardship, however. He liked it when she slept with him. Blair snuggled back under his covered and deposited the cat on top. Midnight, on the other hand, was having nothing of _that_ plan and promptly curled up on Blair's extra pillow instead.

The next morning, while the two men were getting ready for work, the cat again decided to climb the tree.

"Damn it Sandburg!" Jim bellowed.

"I'm getting her, Jim." Blair scurried to rescue his kitten (whether from the heights of the Christmas tree or the wrath of his roommate, he wasn't exactly sure).

"Could you shut her in your room during the day, Chief?" Jim had calmed a little and was looking for a better solution than just yelling at and retrieving the cat every time she climbed the thing. "Just for Christmas?" Blair hesitated just long enough for Jim to think his roommate didn't like the idea, so he proffered another one. "Or, I guess I could just take the thing down. It's not like it's really all that important to me or anything."

That spurred Blair into action. "No man. Don't take it down. This is your house, Jim. You should be able to have a tree without cats climbing it. I'm just happy you let me have the cat in the first place. In my room is fine for the holiday's man. Don't take the tree down."

"It's _our_ house, Blair, and I don't mind you having the cat – even though I can't see why _anyone_ would want a little 'fluff bucket' that only sleeps and poops…and climbs Christmas trees. But thanks. Just keeping her away from the thing until we take it down after the holiday would be good."

Blair took Midnight's food bowl and litter box into his room, and grabbed the cat bed for good measure. 'Not that she actually _uses_ the thing,' he thought. As if to confirm his thoughts, Midnight – who had followed her owner into his room – jumped up on the bed and made herself comfortable on the pillow again. 'Yep.' Blair thought as he tossed the cat bed in the corner, knowing it wouldn't be used. 'Jim was right. That was a waste of perfectly good money'.

Jim was already home when Blair got there. Blair had dropped Jim at the station, since the older man still couldn't drive, but had had to get to Rainier for classes and office hours. Simon had said he would bring Jim home, which, he obviously _had. _Blair didn't envy the captain _that_ task. With Jim on desk duty, he was a bear to transport. Jim didn't like being at less than his best, and made sure everyone around him _knew_ it. And his attitude just got worse as the day went on. He was bitchy in the morning. By the end of the day, he was downright homicidal.

Blair dropped his keys into the basket by the door, hung up his coat and went to his room to put his backpack down, knowing how Jim hated for him to just toss it on the sofa, as was his wont. Besides, he had to let his wayward cat out of her captivity.

He came out just moments later.

"Hey Jim," he started. "Did you let Midnight out when you got home?" Blair was already on his way to the Christmas tree to see if he could find her.

"No, Chief." Jim answered. "I just got home a couple minutes before you did." Blair looked up at that point and noticed that, indeed, Jim had taken off his coat and stored his gun, but he was standing in the kitchen area, going over the mail. That was the first thing he did when he got home, and Jim was such a creature of habit, that had Blair noticed what his roommate was doing, he wouldn't have even asked. Jim wouldn't be likely to let the cat out before he finished with the mail.

"Did you look under the bed?" Jim offered a possible solution.

Actually, no he hadn't. So, Blair returned to his room and did just that. Midnight was still nowhere to be found. As he straightened back up, he noticed the window.

Blair slept with the window open and hadn't thought about that when they had made the impromptu arrangements of keeping the cat in the room during the day. The screen was closed, though, so even if he _had_ thought about it, he might have thought it would be fine to leave the window up to give the cat some fresh air. But now that he looked at the screen, he noticed that it was loose in one corner. He could have sworn it wasn't like that normally, but who really looked at their screen that closely, so it could have been. More likely, though, was that the cat was playing with the latch and managed to get it loose a little. When Blair pushed on the corner, it gave just enough for a tiny ball of fluff to get out. At 4 months old, the kitten still wasn't very big, and seemed to fit just about anywhere she put her mind to.

"Jim!" Blair shouted in surprise. "I think she got out!"

Jim came in quickly and was about to suggest other places to hunt, sure that the cat hadn't gotten out, but when he saw Blair push on the screen again, he had to concede that it was a definite possibility. He cocked his head, in a way that let Blair know he was using his remarkable hearing to locate the cat.

Finally, he had to admit out loud. "Yeah, Chief. She's not in the apartment." Hearing the little creature's heartbeat had taken some getting used to – it was so much faster than a human's, even at rest – but now it was second nature to catalogue that heart rate as well as Blair's when doing his 'sense check' at night before going to bed. He would have easily located the heartbeat now, if it was anywhere in the apartment.

Blair was at the door fast enough that if Jim didn't know better he would have sworn the younger man had teleported. He was putting on his coat as he left and hadn't quite managed to latch the door.

"Sandburg!" Jim grabbed his coat and started after him. "Wait up. I'm coming to help."

After driving around in increasingly wide circles for the past couple of hours, they still hadn't seen even a glimpse of the cat. Finally, Jim yelled, "Chief. Stop."

Blair pulled the truck over and looked at the sentinel waiting for him to continue.

"I smell her."

"How does she smell any different from any other cat?"

"I don't know. Shampoo maybe? She just does, and I smell her close by."

They jumped out of the vehicle – well, as much as Jim could 'jump' – and Blair followed his roommate to a recessed doorway. Blair suddenly wished it hadn't been Midnight that Jim had smelled.

The cat was huddled in the corner, invisible from the road, and there was a trail of blood from the street to just under her hind quarters.

"God Jim." Blair reached out to pet the pitiful creature. "Was she hit by a car?"

"I'm not sure, Chief. Doesn't really look bad enough to have been a car. Certainly not one at full speed. Maybe a bike or a car just pulling from the curb."

"Not bad enough? Jim, she looks awful!" The kitten hadn't responded to Blair's voice or even his touch, except to mew pitifully and huddle into the corner even more tightly. She was obviously in pain.

"Well, she's still alive and I guess it doesn't really matter _what_ happened." Jim placated.

"Yeah," Blair continued to stroke the cat and contemplated how to pick her up without hurting her.

Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Come on, Chief. Let's get her to the vet. I don't think it's as bad as it looks, Blair. Her heartbeat is nice and strong – a little elevated, but that's to be expected, I guess."

Blair had to drive, since Jim couldn't, but really wanted to be in the passenger seat holding Midnight. He knew Jim didn't really like animals and Blair wanted to comfort the cat as much as he could. When he glanced over at Jim, though, he found he had nothing to worry about. The big, tough sentinel was stroking the cat gently, staying away from her injured hind quarters, talking to her in a soothing voice.

"There you go, kitty." Jim didn't realize he had an audience. "We'll be at the vet's soon, and they'll fix you right up. Nothing to worry about 'little bit'. That's right, you're starting to calm down now, are you 'pretty thing'?" Jim looked over to Blair and noticed how uptight his roommate was over this and added, to the cat, "Now if we can just get your daddy to settle down."

Blair glared at Jim and continued to drive as quickly as he could safely and got to the vet's in record time. They weren't busy this close to Christmas so Midnight could go right in. The doctor informed them that the cat had lacerated muscles on the left hip and her left hind leg was broken. He unknowingly agreed with what Jim had said earlier – that it looked much worse than it was. The cat was stitched up, had her leg set and wrapped, been provided with an Elizabethan collar so she couldn't chew the stitches or bandage, and they were on their way in no time.

Back at the apartment, Blair settled the injured cat near the infirmed sentinel on the couch and in the time it took him to put his coat away and grab beers from the fridge, Jim had put the cat on his lap, and was stroking her and talking gently again. "There, see 'precious'? I told it would be fine. Better than fine, actually, now you and I can get your daddy to wait on us hand and foot."

"I wouldn't count on it 'gimpy'." Blair said from the doorway. He had set down the beers and picked up the camera and took a picture of the scene before him. "Just you wait til the guys at the station see 'Mr. Toughguy Cat Hater' all cuddly with a little pussy cat."

"Don't you dare, Sandburg!"

Blair laughed. "Why not? I can outrun you now."

"It won't always be that way, Chief. Think _very_ carefully about this."

Blair had already hooked the camera to the computer and was downloading the picture. "Isn't technology a wonderful thing?" He stated as he addressed an email to the guys at the station and pushed send with an elaborate flourish.

"You did _not_ just do that, Sandburg!"

Blair just grinned.

"Just keep smiling, Cheshire Cat. Remember, I heal quickly and I _know_ where you live!" Jim growled.

Midnight butted her head into Jim's hand and he forgot his temper as he promptly started stroking her again.

"Hmf." Blair made a sound. "Don't like cats, my ass. Man, you are _so_ busted!"

Jim continued talking to the cat in his soothing voice. "You're daddy's dead 'sweet thing' and he doesn't even know it yet."

Blair chuckled and tossed a beer to Jim.

End


End file.
